


A dog's best friend

by jesseofthenorth



Series: Bucky and Clint and the damned dog too [2]
Category: Avengers (Comics), Hawkeye (Comics)
Genre: Gen, Lucky&Bucky my new BroTP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-29
Updated: 2016-03-29
Packaged: 2018-05-29 19:33:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6390364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jesseofthenorth/pseuds/jesseofthenorth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint's out of town, Kate's out of commission that leaves ...  Bucky?</p>
            </blockquote>





	A dog's best friend

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea how this even happened.  
> Sorry about the stupid title.

James wondered if Clint new that the dog whined when he was gone. He doubted it. The  dog was generally pretty well behaved for an independent, pizza mooching bonehead. Still he clearly missed Clint when the guy was off saving the world and pissing of ex-wives for a living. 

James would never have guessed from the dogs relaxed demeanor that he gave a shit one way or another.  

Until that the girl, Katie called him on his cell phone.  

"How did you get this number, little girl?"   

"Call me little girl again and I'm telling Natasha" . 

 "Fine..... Sorry. What do you want?" 

 "I need you to watch Clint's dog for a while" 

 "No"  

"Aww come on dude! Aren't you friends? Like real actual 'got-yer-back-buddy friends?" 

 James had stop and digest that for a minute. It made him feel like a special kind of idiot that he hadn't realized.  "Yeah. So?"  

"Well Clint loves that damned dog and the dog needs feeding and walking and ...stuff" 

"I thought that was your job. Avengerette, dog sitter, sidekick?" He was trying to wind her up enough to make her go away. He was pretty sure from the profound depth of her sigh he was not succeeding.  

"Look jackass. I broke my ankle okay? And like _fucked_ my knee, maybe permanently. SO I am not really feeling up to dealing with any more shit. It's four flights of stairs up to Clint's apartment and Lucky has been up there since last night and he is an _excellent_ dog but even he has his limits. I also have no one else to call at this point. If you say no because you and Clint are not really that good of friends and 'it's just a dog' I will get out this stupid fucking bed and find the crutches that I am not supposed to use for at least a week and  I will climb every last mother-fucking one of those stairs and probably break my neck trying to get back down but at least then Lucky won't have to live with the humiliation of crapping on the floor of the first person that ever gave a single solitary shit if he lived or died. So how about you save us both the unnecessary aggravation and _just fucking do it,_ m-kay?" 

It took a moment for James to work his way out of the bubble of stunned silence his brain was stuck in.  

"Girlie? I don't think you need to call Natasha for back-up unless someone is shooting at you and you are out of bullets." 

"Arrows." 

"What?" 

"Arrows. I'm an archer. I hate guns. Was that a 'yes miss bishop I would love to be of assistance'?" 

"Yes." 

"Good. Get moving or you're going to be cleaning dog shit of the floor when you get there. And make sure you fill up his food and water bowls too." She hung up without saying anything else. 

 

The dog was so glad to see him when he got there, jumping around his feet and licking his hands and rushing off to get his leash, James wound up feeling like a heartless asshole for even _thinking_ about not helping out. He walked the dog around Brooklyn until his feet hurt and the dog was panting. He crapped like 8 times which made James feel even worse.  

He walked the dog around Brooklyn until his feet hurt and the dog was panting. The dog crapped like 8 times which made James feel even worse.  

He filled the bowls before he left and made sure to lock the apartment door on his way out. He was almost at the end of the hall when he heard moaning  coming from behind Clint's door.  

He figured the dog was just going to protest a bit and then settle down and sleep. He forgot all about before he even hit the street. 

 

James was back again in a few hours when Miss Bossy-pants Bishop called to guilt him into walking the dog again. 

"Suck it up chum. Clint won't be back for at least 3 days and  _I can't walk._ So walk him twice a day. Feed him in the mornings. And for gods sake give the poor guy a pat on the head once in a while." Kates voice got kind of soft and sad then "He probably thinks we all dumped his sorry ass or something." 

James rolled his eyes and went to do as he was asked. It was a pain in his ass and he would rather be fucking sleeping but he might as well get it over and done. 

The shittiest thing though was that the sad moaning sound was coming through the door when he got there again. As if... as if the dog had been doing that the whole time he'd been alone. James was vaguely (completely) horrified by the thought.  

"Hey dog. Ya miss me?" He asked half joking as he unlocked the door and stepped inside. He'd never seen a dog wag it's tail in a complete circle before. Not that he had a lot of experience with pet dogs. Most of the dogs he'd known in his other life hadn't ever really been happy to see him. But this dog was beside himself with joy, wagging and squeaking and wiggling and licking. It made James feel like the biggest dick in the Five Boroughs. 

This time when he got back from their walk he filled the water bowls, tentatively patted the dog very carefully on the head and made to leave. He watched the dog from the corner of his eye, he really wished he had missed the miserable droop of the dog's head before it turned away and abjectly climbed  onto Clint's terrible sofa. The dog didn't even look at him as he left. He wasn't any further down the hall than last time before that deplorable sound found him again.  

He stopped walking and stood there for a moment. The thing was James had seen and done a lot of really terrible shit in his life, but he didn't really think of himself as a terrible person. He knew though if he could turn away from such obvious sorrow then it didn't really matter what he told himself; a terrible person was exactly what he was.  

James turned around fished out the key Clint had given him months ago. The dog, Lucky, was just as glad to see him as if he had been gone the 12 hours he had originally intended. 

 

When Clint got back almost a week later from the clusterfuck op to end all clusterfuck ops "Fuck SHIELD! next time I am telling Coulson no!" It was 12:30 at night, his TV was on, there was a foot high stack of empty pizza boxes by his front door, and his dog was on his couch passed-out-drooling all over a one-armed former assassin. 

"Huh" was about all he could muster in terms of a response. He dragged his ass to bed and settled for getting an explanation in the morning. He did take a minor detour far enough to get pictures before he tip-toed to bed. 


End file.
